


Fight, Kiss

by cypheroftyr



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 14:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10878567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypheroftyr/pseuds/cypheroftyr
Summary: An old prompt I took on tumblr, written for wargoddess





	Fight, Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wargoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/gifts).



The first time they fight it’s routine, it’s sparring Carver says. The glint in his eyes and the heat of of his bare hand, newly free of his gauntlets on Cullen’s arm, hot and sweaty after he’s pulled his gambeson off in the summer heat. His gaze is hotter on the blond templar’s skin than the sun.

“Come on, you mean you can’t take a new templar without all your gear? Afraid I’ll hurt you…ser?” Carver taunts as he trades out his two hander for a practice blade and brandishes it at his commander.

“It’s not that and you know it Hawke.” Cullen says mulishly as he sponges off with cold water and a pleased sigh. “I’d rather not have broken ribs or get my skull cracked in the name of bravado.” he tugs just his padding back on and forgoes the heavy plate. “Will this serve instead?”

“Don’t call me Hawke.” Carver snaps as he circles the other man, anger at the moniker flashing as he looks for an opening. He was Carver, not just Hawke.

 

“Apologies then, Ser Carver.” Cullen replied before he leapt over and smacked the brunet with the flat of his own practice blade and put him on his ass before he could block. “That’s one.” he said with a salute and a cocky grin before he helped his charge up.

“Enjoy it, it won’t happen again.” Carver pouted as he pulled away and headed in for a bath and lunch.

The second time they fought it was over Hawke, Garrett Hawke that was. It was a screaming match that half the Gallows heard but pretended not to. Carver’s brother was making too much noise, gaining too much power and making waves in a city already on the brink.

“I can’t control him Cullen. He’s stopped talking to me when I joined up. You say these things like I have any say in what he does. He’s older than me and doesn’t care for my opinion, so shove your anger. I’m not Hawke.” he shouts before he shoves at the blond captain.

“I know you’re not Hawke, you scream it at me every time you get the chance.” Cullen countered before he hemmed Carver against the wall, thick forearm braced against the younger templars chest to keep him still.

“Do not do this Carver. You are not the target of my anger, perhaps…I erred in coming to you with this. Can you forgive me?” Cullen said as he stared into the dark brown eyes, full of anger, bitterness and hurt.

“You could start by letting me go ser.” the younger Hawke spat then turned away from his commander. “Fine, it’s …fine. I’m just going to go.” Carver said bitterly.

“You don’t have to Carver.” Cullen offered with a tight smile. “Could stay, have a pint with me…if you like.” the senior templar stammered.

“Ain’t that against regulation?” he asked curiously.

“Being Knight-Captain has a few privileges.” Cullen evaded as he pulled a bottle of ale from the cold box that was hidden in the wall. “One of which is a cold box of my own.”

“I suppose I could stay, since you’re offering.” Carver said as he slipped into a chair, legs spread open and expression curious as to the change in his captain. “Never took you for a drinking man.”

“I’m not so pious as to not enjoy a good brew. Besides, half the time it’s safer than water.” the blond muttered as he poured then offered up the lip of his glass in salute. “To …Ferelden.”

“To Ferelden.” Carver repeated then took a long pull of his drink. “Might have to get on your good side if it means getting a bit of this now and again.”

“You don’t have to do that, I enjoy your company, and don’t mind sharing my drink with …friends.” the templar avoided speaking when he took a drink as well.

“Friends are we, I guess I like that.” Carver said before he drained his glass and stood to go. “Thanks for the pint, I’ll see you tomorrow, ser.”

Whatever Cullen was going to say was cut off by the near slam of the heavy wooden door as he gave up his next thought. “Next time, don’t be such a coward.” he muttered to himself.

When they finally kissed, it was a late night, dark and stormy. Cullen had followed Carver up to his rooms, drenched and full of laughter at the absurdity of being caught out in the rain like two boys. Cullen watched as the other man slipped out of his training gear with no shame, not a care for the fact he was baring warm, drenched skin to the other mans gaze.

He wouldn't had noticed except for vehement swearing that came from his captain as he was down to a towel he’d grabbed from the bathing chamber.

“I…uh managed to smack into my desk. Sorry.” Cullen mumbled as he tried not to stare at the other man’s broad chest, thick muscles and defined arms. “Training does you good.” he said without thinking.

“Oh does it now?” the brunet said as he came up to his captain and helped him out of his gear until he just had his pants on.

“I…you heard that?” Cullen said as he stilled under the other man’s hands.

“Yeah, I did. let’s get you out of these wet things, you’ll catch a death of cold.” Carver drawled as he leaned in until he was almost nose to nose with the blond templar. “Unless you let me warm you with a kiss?”

“K..kiss?” the Knight-Captain stammered.

“You do know what a kiss is Cullen?” the brunet huffed before he closed the gap and tasted him, savored each sigh that escaped into his mouth until he pulled away. “That’s a kiss in case you don’t know.”

That broke Cullen’s paralysis and he tugged at the towel Carver was wearing even as he pulled them back towards his bed. “I know what a kiss is, I’m no sodding virgin. Just don’t let this be another damned dream.”

“It’s not…you’ll have to explain later for now, I think I’m more interested in what you’ve got under all this leather.” Carver groaned while he tugged at the wet laces and unwrapped Cullen like a feast day present. “Much, much better. Snuff the candles and come to bed.”

“Yes ser, Carver ser.” was the last coherent thing he said that night.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about 3 years old, and I literally forgot about it till I was faffing around on tumblr and found it again.


End file.
